


Doped

by belial



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: And Harvey is Done With Everyone’s Shit, Humor, Jim Loves Him Like Crazy, M/M, Oswald Has A Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 13:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3937771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belial/pseuds/belial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets hit with a new designer drug; Harvey calls Jim’s emergency contact.  Oswald saves the day.  The Gotham Police Department learns a lot more than they bargained for and everyone gets their happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doped

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the fandom, characters, etc. I make no profit from this. No offense intended. 
> 
> Notes: This story is written in Harvey’s POV. I do not remotely try to follow canon with this. 
> 
> Author’s Babbling: So I am in the process of writing werewolves and my characters are refusing to participate. I told them, “Either get to work or I’ll drug you and lock you in a room together!” and Jim said, “Drug me?” and then Oswald rubbed his hands together and said, “Drug Jim…” and here we are.

“So there’s nothing we can do for him?”

Harvey looks at Lee, pleading, and the doctor shakes her head. “I’m sorry, there’s really nothing we can do for him. The drug’s design is nothing I’ve seen before; it’s got all of the inhibition-lowering properties of Ecstasy, and all of the side-effects of sodium thiopental.”

“So Detective Gordon’s going to be stoned, aggressively aroused, and honest all at the same time?”

They turn to glare at Ed as one unit; Lee and Essen look the least amused, and Ed holds up his hands for peace. “Sorry,” he says, not looking sorry at all. “So what do we do for him then?”

Jim groans before Harvey can talk. “Ice,” he says.

“We probably should start him on fluids to flush the drug out faster,” Lee says. “But no. The only thing we can do is let him burn through it on his own.”

“Ice!” Jim says again. He fumbles his phone out of his pocket and pushes it across the table. They’ve set up camp in one of the interrogation rooms, and it’s a damn good thing, because despite Harvey’s best efforts, his partner is determined to strip out of his clothes. 

“That’s good, kid,” Harvey soothes, and pats Jim on the shoulder awkwardly. “Ice.”

“No. Call Ice,” Jim says. He claps both hands over his mouth and fucking _giggles_. “He’ll know.”

“Harvey,” Captain Essen says. She raises an eyebrow and looks at the phone Jim keeps touching. “Did you call the I.C. E. contact in Jim’s phone yet?”’

I.C.E. – In Case of Emergency. Jesus, and Harvey calls himself a detective. “Fuck.”

He picks Jim’s phone up while Leslie convinces Jim to keep his shirt on. Literally. “We can handcuff him to the table?” Harvey suggests as he dials.

“We’re not handcuffing a drugged man to the table,” the captain snaps at him. “Harvey…”

But Harvey can’t listen to her right now. Harvey can’t listen, because the voice that answers the other end of the line is saying, “This is an unexpected surprise, my enchanting detective.”

Harvey freezes. Not at the words; or rather, not only at the words. Because Harvey knows Jim and Barbara broke up, but he wasn’t aware Jim’s new emergency contact was a… man? “Who the fuck is this?” he barks, before he can control himself.

The voice – _soft, lilting, so damn familiar, damn it Harvey where do you know that voice from?_ – says, “Perhaps I should ask that question first. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with? Since you have my James’ phone.”

“This is his partner,” Harvey says, rattled. _Enchanting detective? My James? What the hell?_ “Harvey Bullock. Your turn.”

“Detective Bullock?”

“Yeah.”

“Detective Bullock, where’s James? What happened?” the voice asks. Harvey can hear the threatening tone evaporate into what sounds like sincere panic. “Is James all right?”

“Cobblepot?” Harvey says. Gapes, and the conversations in the room stop. “Cobblepot, is that you?”

“Yes,” comes the sharp reply. “Now tell me, _where is James_?”

“He’s at police headquarters,” Harvey says. He whips the phone away from his ear and puts it on speaker so the others in the room can hear as well. “Jim got dosed with that new designer drug, and he’s…”

“What? Is he all right? Why isn’t he at the hospital?”

“Ozzie!” Jim exclaims, and Harvey nearly drops the phone. “Ozzie, feel funny, ‘m hot, sucks. Told Harvey to call you.”

“I’m glad for that, love,” Cobblepot’s voice carries through the phone, and Harvey exchanges wide-eyed glances with Lee. “I assume you’re somewhere safe? Gabriel,” and here Cobblepot starts giving orders to his right-hand man. “Get the car and get us to Gotham PD. Yes, I’m serious. _Now, Gabriel._ ”

“Cobblepot?”

“Detective Bullock,” Cobblepot says. “Since it’s beyond your current capabilities to keep James safe from harm, I’ll ask you to please ensure his privacy. I know what that drug can do. I’ll be there immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Harvey says, still staring at the phone like it’s a bomb. “I get it.”

“Good. James, can you hear me?”

James groans, says, “Need you.”

“I know, I’m coming, you have my word. You’ll be patient for me, won’t you? Let Detective Bullock keep you company until I get there.” 

“Knew you’d come,” Jim says, grinning. “Love you Ozzie.”

Harvey drops the phone as Cobblepot says, “Me too.”

The call disconnects and Jim gives Harvey a loopy grin. “See? Ice,” he says, proudly. And promptly passes out on the table.

“Raise your hand if you didn’t see that coming,” Ed says, raising his own hand. “Are we sure we actually heard that?”

“I’m not,” Lee says, blinking. “That’s the most surreal thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

“Actually, that answers so many questions,” Captain Essen says. She glances at Harvey. “So many.”

Harvey knows what she means. He’s wondered, many times, where Jim’s come up with some of his theories. Wondered where they got tips that led to better information. Wondered how Jim knew where to find Sal Maroni’s body, where the information came from to arrest and prosecute Falcone. The Gotham Police Department’s removed more than half of the mob presence from Gotham City, thanks to Jim’s keen intuition and miraculous evidence-finding.

Or maybe it wasn’t Jim doing it all on his own.

“Jesus Christ, we’ve been taking out Cobblepot’s competition for him,” Harvey says. He glances between Nygma, Lee, and the captain. “Every case we’ve cleared.”

“I think when Jim sobers up, he’s got some explaining to do,” Essen says. “Harvey, stay with him. I’ll send Cobblepot to you when he arrives.”

“You’re going to let him just waltz in here and take Jim?” Lee asks, horrified.

“No, I’m going to ask the new criminal head of Gotham to sit in an interrogation room with two of my detectives. One detective will ask questions; the second detective, while under the influence of a truth-serum, will hopefully encourage his _gangster boyfriend_ to tell the truth as well.”

Jim lets out a soft snore and Harvey asks, “Was that weird to say?”

“Incredibly,” Essen says. She sighs. “But since you and Jim have started going after the mob, major crimes have decreased by more than seventy percent. And I’m willing to go out on a limb in this instance and find out if Jim’s relationship with Cobblepot is something we should worry about, or something we should be grateful for.”

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~

Lee ends up sitting with Jim in the interrogation room while Harvey ducks out with the captain and Nygma. Nygma wanders away only after Essen’s strongly worded suggestion, complaining that he ‘misses all the fun’.

Christ.

“When he arrives, you can bring him to Jim,” Essen says. “I’ll be on the other side of the mirror, recording your conversation.”

“Yeah,” Harvey says. “Wonder what other secrets my partner’s been hiding from me.”

“For months,” Essen says, twisting the knife. “You truly had no idea?”

Harvey winces. Again, some detective he is. “I sometimes thought the information the kid had was too good to be true, but to go after Falcone and Maroni…”

“You ignored the source,” Essen finishes. She clicks her tongue. “I can’t say I’d have done differently, if I’d been in the same position.”

“Two murders in the last three weeks,” Harvey says. “It’s like a damn miracle.”

They don’t get to speak any further, because the double doors of the department smack open, and the room gets quiet. Not only because the most powerful mob boss in Gotham’s just walked in, but because he’s walked in with a small entourage.

And all of them are armed.

Cobblepot’s gaze lasers in on Harvey and Harvey has the odd desire to step back. “Where is he?” the mobster snarls. “I told you to stay with him!”

“He’s with the doc, she’s a much better choice to keep an eye on his well-being right now,” Harvey replies. “Do you think you might ask your friends to stay outside of the police station, where the number of armed people in the room don’t outnumber you six-to-one?”

Cobblepot blinks and looks around as though only now realizing where he is. “Gabriel. Let our friends return to the car, please.”

Three of the five men slide out of the station; Cobblepot turns back to Harvey and smiles. “Apologies,” he says, mildly. “My mind is otherwise preoccupied. Where is James?”

Harvey waves the small man forward, leads him down the hall to the interrogation rooms. “We thought we’d tuck him in here for his own safety,” Harvey replies. “He’s pretty high right now.”

“But he’s otherwise safe?”

Either Cobblepot’s the best actor Harvey’s seen, or the mobster is truly concerned. “Thirsty, tired, stoned, horny,” Harvey says. “The biggest challenge we’ve had is keeping him dressed.”

Harvey pushes open the door and takes in the tableau in front of him; Jim, shirtless, shoes off, flopped on top of the table with Lee patting his forehead with wet paper towels. She looks up at their entrance and blows out a breath. “Thank God,” she says, and shoves out of the room past Harvey. “He’s intolerable like this.”

“James?”

Jim sits up and almost topples off the table. “Ozzie!” he exclaims, and his smile grows to dizzying proportions. “Baby, you’re here! How did you get here so fast, beautiful, huh? Are you here because of me?”

Harvey watches in absolute shock as Cobblepot – mobster, kingpin, murderer and criminal – smiles bashfully at Jim and _blushes_. “I’m here,” he confirms. “Oh, my dearest detective, what have you gotten yourself into?”

“Sucks, Ozzie,” Jim says, shaking his head. “Wanna fuck you, you weren’t here.”

The blush on Cobblepot’s face deepens, but despite his embarrassment, he steps into Jim’s open arms and _snuggles closer_. “James! Mind your manners, not here.”

Jim does an impression of an octopus and wraps his arms and legs around Cobblepot, cups the mobster’s face and rubs their noses together. “Please, Ozzie. So fuckin’ horny…”

“I can tell,” Cobblepot replies, giggling. “But dearest, wait for me, hmm? So I can take you home first?”

“And maybe where I don’t have to go deaf and blind, partner,” Harvey finally manages to say. He snaps his mouth shut before he collects insects. “This is beyond belief.”

Jim lifts his gaze to look at Harvey. “What? Me ‘n Ozzie?”

“Yes, Jim. You and the mobster in your embrace.”

“Tread carefully, Detective Bullock,” Cobblepot says. The smaller man doesn’t move away from Jim, but Harvey understands the threat anyway. “To not speak ill of this man who’s most dear to me.”

“Trust me, Cobblepot, we’re all learning firsthand how dear he is,” Harvey says. “We learned a hell of a lot of things today.”

“Did you?”

“Ozzie,” Jim says. He kisses Cobblepot’s nose. “Don’t be grumpy. Harvey’s a dick.”

Cobblepot snickers. “I know, but maybe we can talk to Harvey another day, hmm? Let me take you home now.”

Harvey blocks the door. “I’m not letting you take my partner anywhere until I get a few answers from you, Cobblepot.”

“Ozzie’s not gonna hurt me,” Jim slurs. He’s trying to get up from the table but it’s not easy work. “Ozzie loves me.”

“James…”

“Naw,” Jim says. He grins at the mobster. “S’true, right? As much as I love you?”

Cobblepot just melts. Harvey’s not sure if he wants a barf bucket or his gun. “Yes, James. It’s true, you’re very safe with me.”

“Told ya,” Jim chirps. “Gonna go home now an’ fuck?”

“Your wish is my command,” Cobblepot replies. “Move, please, Detective Bullock.”

“How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you and my partner been…”

Cobblepot turns his attention back to Harvey. “Seeing each other? A little over six months. Friends? Closer to a year. Would you like to know about our first date, or may I take him home?”

“You’ve been feeding him all of the information on the mob,” Harvey says, and Cobblepot’s face shuts down into something very cold and very dangerous. “You got him twisted up with you and you’ve been using him to knock off your competition, is that it? Using the GPD as your personal cleaning crew? And you really think I’m going to let you take him anywhere?”

“You fool,” Oswald snarls, and lets go of Jim to get directly in Harvey’s face. “You think that’s the answer? That I’ve been, what? Having relations with your partner to further my own ends?”

“Haven’t you?”

“Tha’s stupid, Harvey,” Jim says. He’s halfway between standing and slumped over the table. “Ozzie’s on our side.”

“Really,” Harvey says. 

“James, don’t say anymore,” Cobblepot says, but thanks to the drugs, Jim ignores him.

“Ozzie’s a Fed.”

Cobblepot groans, low and heartfelt. “James. You really need to stop talking, sweetheart, please.”

_Wait, what?_ “What did he just say?”

“Nothing, he’s confused,” Cobblepot says. He tries to move past Harvey and get to the door but Harvey blocks him. 

“Try again, Cobblepot.”

And Cobblepot offers Harvey a small smile. “In all the times you investigated me, you never thought it odd that after I graduated high school, I fell off everyone’s radar until two years ago?”

“You mean you’re really…?”

“If you want to finish cleaning up this city, then you need to remember I’m a mobster, and I’m no friend of yours,” Cobblepot says. He frowns, looks around the room, and visibly shakes off his anger. “If you don’t want both of us dead, you’ll never forget I'm no friend of yours."

“But Jim's still my friend?”

“Jim’s on your side. But he's worth everything to me,” Cobblepot says. “And I had no idea I’d find him when I accepted the opportunity to return to my hometown on this assignment.”

Jesus. He’d put a Fed in a trunk a long, long time ago and almost had him killed. “You told Jim a long time ago that you were clever.”

“You just never knew how much,” Cobblepot replies. He smiles at Harvey. “But don’t confuse me for a saint, Detective.”

“And your posse out front?”

“We’re all bad men. You’d do well to remember that. I’m not letting anything blow this, do you understand?”

So Cobblepot will still kill him if he gets in the way. “What happens when there’s no one left to deal with here?”

“We leave.”

“We, is it?”

“Ozzie, why’re you guys still talkin’?” Jim interrupts. “Wanna go home.”

“I know, Detective Bullock’s going to move and let me get Gabriel to come help you,” Cobblepot says, snapping his fingers at Harvey. “Isn’t that correct?”

“Yeah. We’re not done discussing this, Cobblepot.”

Cobblepot’s hulking bodyguard comes into the room, gets an arm around Jim, and helps him to his feet. “Get him to the car, Gabe,” Cobblepot says. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Gabe exits, Cobblepot looks at Harvey. “I grew up here wanting things to be very different,” he says. “I found a way to make that happen. I brought in someone I could trust, an honorable police officer, to further that goal. I didn’t realize he’d mean more to me than my own life.”

Harvey doesn’t look at the mobster (FBI Agent?). “Jim’s morals get under your skin.”

“I didn’t realize I had any left. It’s not always easy to do the right thing.”

“How can I help?”

“Do what you’ve been doing,” Cobblepot says. “Don’t change it. And don’t get in my way.”

“And Jim?”

“That’s up to Jim, but I know what I’d give up, on my part.”

“Then I guess that’s all I needed.”

Cobblepot nods once, crisply, and then takes a deep breath. Harvey can almost see the change physically; the honesty slips away and the persona of ‘Penguin’ slides back over Cobblepot’s demeanor. “Always a pleasure, Detective Bullock.”

“Get the hell out of my station,” Harvey growls.

Cobblepot limp-walks down the hall, following the same path Gabe took Jim. As soon as he’s out of the station, Harvey finds himself standing next to Captain Essen. 

“I stopped recording,” Essen says. “I destroyed the video.”

“I figured as much.”

“Do you think Jim knew about Cobblepot, before they got involved?”

Harvey thinks about the way Jim leaned into Cobblepot’s body; the way the two men fit together without any discomfort. As if they’d been made for each other; two good men, despite whatever outward appearances portrayed. “I don’t think I give a damn,” he replies.

They’ve got a city to save.

~Fin~


End file.
